Cendres
by Little Octopus
Summary: Forced to be a servant after his mother dies, Matthew tries to live a happy life by looking to the future. Maybe his hopes are answered when the prince begins looking for a queen and Matthew fits the criteria. The only problem is, how is the prince going to marry Matthew if he is in disguise?
1. Chapter 1

Cendres

Cendres. In French, it means ashes. Ashes meant a place for Matthew to warm his hands after scrubbing the floor. Cendres was ugly, dirty. No one wanted them. No one wanted Matthew.

Matthew stared out the window across his bed. Beyond that window was a giant clock. Behind that clock was the palace. The clock counted down his time until he had to cook breakfast. The palace reminded him of what he could never have.

The clock finally chimed. Five heavy bongs that ringed in Matthew's ears. He sat up and swung his legs out of bed. He stood slowly, not wanting to rush the morning. Not wanting to rush his torture.

He dressed in his clothes. Though they were more like rags. His pants were torn at the ends. His white shirt was a dingy yellow. His shoes were almost devoid of their soles. He wore no under clothes and only had two of each item of clothing. His hair was a limp dirty mess. He didn't bother to worry about his appearance. He was not concerned, he was more focused with avoiding getting in trouble.

Matthew moved quickly down the stairs. He was quiet, not wanting to wake anyone before he had prepared their meal. He walked into the kitchen and closed the door behind him. His blue-violet eyes scanned the area, looking for something to eat. Something they won't notice is gone.

He took a piece of bread. If he cooked well enough, maybe he would get some leftovers. He began to retrieve the ingredients and utensils he would need for the meal. He flinched at every clank of the pans. Every sizzle of the meat. His eyes shot to the door every thirty seconds.

The mansion finally awoke as Matthew was setting the table. His step-father came down the stairs first. His footfalls heavy with his fat belly. His breaths came in pants. Matthew could hear him from the dining room. He was a disgusting man and Matthew had no idea what his deceased mother saw in him.

"What are you doing in the dining room?" The fat man asked upon seeing Matthew.

"Just setting the table, sir." Matthew said, his eyes downcast.

"Is breakfast ready?" His stepfather say heavily in a chair.

"Yes. Should I wait for the girls?" Matthew asked. He stayed where he was, not daring to move to the kitchen until he was excused.

"They'll be down soon enough. Go get me my food boy!" His stepfather sat heavily in his chair, the wood creaking.

"Yes, sir." Matthew left quickly, not wanting to be near the man for longer than he had to.

In the kitchen, Matthew heard his stepsisters come down the stairs. Dorlas with her sharp heels and fast foot falls came first. Grezlda followed, her footsteps heavy and dull as her fat form hobbled down the hall and stairs.

"Matthew!" Dorlas's shrill voice echoed around Matthew's head. "Where is my breakfast?"

Sighing softly to himself, Matthew loaded his arms up with platters and cups. A walking balancing act, Matthew entered the dining room. He set the food in front of each individual, ignoring the whispering between his stepsisters and the glares coming from his stepfather. With everything in place, Matthew stood at the end of the table, waiting to be excused.

After a few minutes of listening to the happy family chatter, Matthew risked a glance around the table. No one seemed to be paying attention to him, though he had not been excused. But he had dishes to do.

He could either turn and leave, or ask to be excused. Both risked a bloody nose or a giant migraine. Weighing his options, Matthew decided to leave. At least he can explain that easier than his talking.

He turned slowly on his heel, not wanting to alert the others of his departure. However, his plan failed when he heard his stepfather's voice.

"Where do you think you are going?"

"To finish the dishes." Matthew said softly. His heart jumped to his throat.

"Why weren't they done before I came downstairs?" His stepfather asked.

Matthew could sense the anger boiling beneath the surface. "You came down sooner than expected."

The man stood. Slowly and threatening. "Didn't I teach you to always be ready?"

"Yes, sir. And I was, but you awoke sooner than usual." Matthew attempted to explain. He could hardly be in trouble for not having dishes done. And if this stupid man would just let him go, there wouldn't be an issue.

"Then I suggest you get up earlier. Instead of dawdling in your room." His stepfather seated himself again. The girls snickered at each other. "You may leave."

Holding his head high as he dared, Matthew fled the kitchen. He closed the door behind him and let out a relieved sigh. At least he hadn't been hit.

•

Matthew was scrubbing the stairs when there was a knock at the door. He looked around the foyer quickly. He wasn't allowed to be seen by anyone who visited. He gathered his cleaning tools and moved to the supply closet as his stepfather shuffled to answer the door. They were wealthy enough to afford maids, the fat man just didn't want to spend the money or have anyone see Matthew and want to help him.

"Get in the closet!" The fat man snapped when he noticed Matthew placing the cleaning supplies in it.

Matthew thought about protesting that it was full of cleaning products that smelled, but simply nodded and closed himself in the closet. He took small breaths, the smell of the floor and laundry soap making his nose hurt.

"Hello sir, are you the head of the house?" An unfamiliar voice greeted.

"Yes." Matthew's stepfather answered.

"Here is an invitation to a royal ball. All the details are inside." The man said.

"Thank you." The door closed and Matthew waited silently for him to be let out. Though he had no idea how long that would be.

"Girls! Come down here! Quickly!" The fat man roared. Matthew flinched though the yell was not directed at him.

Matthew heard their shows clanking as they followed their father's orders. He opened the door just slightly, letting fresh air in, and watched the little family gather over a letter.

"The prince is having a ball to find a bride!" Grezlda shrieked. "Male or female between the ages of fourteen and eighteen! We make the cut!"

"Only by a few weeks." Their father said, somewhat grimly. "The ball is right before your birthdays."

"It will be alright! He'll never know! And the prince is nineteen himself!" Dorlas said.

Matthew felt a small tug at his heart. Did this mean he had a chance? The invitation did say everyone, and to not follow those instructions was against the law right?

"We will need dresses!" Grezlda then gasped. "And jewelry, and shoes, and a carriage!"

"You girls have plenty of dresses-"

"Not any fit for a ball of this!" Dorlas said.

After a moment of silence, Matthew got his call.

"Boy!" The shouted vibrated through the house, shaking Matthew's bones.

Matthew pushed the closet door open. He kept his eyes on the ground and his head low. "What is it, sir?" He asked.

"Take the girls to town to pick up any fabric they desire. Then I want you to sew their dresses exactly as they please." The fat man said. He reached into his coat and handed Dorlas a few notes of money. "Do you have any questions, or can you handle this task?"

"I do have a question, sir. If I may ask it?" Matthew said, his heart pounding in his ears and a tingle in the back of his throat.

"What?" The fat man snapped.

"Am...am I invited also?" Matthew asked, twisting his fingers together.

Silence settled around the broken family. Then the two girls broke into high pitched hysterical laughter. His stepfather grinned wickedly.

"Sure you are. But you need to have the floors cleaned, the stairs scrubbed, their dresses made, and corsages made for the girls." The fat man said.

"Wh-what?" Matthew asked.

"And that is on top of your other chores." His stepfather replied.

Matthew opened his mouth. He was ready to tell his stepfather off, to leave the room in a huff and refusal.

"Okay." He said softly. "What flowers would you like me to use?"

"Girls, what would you like to impress the prince with?" The fat man asked.

Matthew's eyes were on his shoes as they answered. They wanted him to use roses. Matthew briefly thought he could sneak poison oak into the corsages, though his stepfather would find out and punish Matthew severely. Matthew quickly dropped the idea.

"We need to start working on our dresses right away!" Dorlas said. "Father, may we go?"

"Yes yes, here's some money. And don't let that boy inside any stores-"

"Or touch the money." Grezlda finished. "We know how to treat dogs, Daddy."

"Good. Now off you go."

The girls left without a glance at Matthew, knowing he would follow.

•

Matthew's feet hurt. He leaned as much as he dared against the wall behind him. He closed his eyes and willed the pain to go away.

He was in his situation because of his mother. She was terminally ill and wanted Matthew to have a good home to live in when she died. She lied about their status when she married the fat man. Matthew was treated well for the first few months, then his mother died. After that, he became the family slave.

It wasn't too bad at first. Just him doing the chores. Then he started to act out and his step father began to put him in his place. Beating and yelling were the most often punishments. Finally, Matthew gave up. He didn't bother to try to escape or disobey.

Not that he didn't want to leave. He wanted out of that house more than anything. There was just nothing he could do.

"Matthew!" Dorlas's shrill voice shattered the blond's momentary peace.

He stood straight and held his arms out. Fabrics, scarves and jewelry were piled high on his hands. He rolled his arms and held the items to his chest, trying not to drop them.

"Next shop!" Grezlda said, following her sister.

Matthew rolled his eyes. If they bought any more stuff they would need a horse and carriage.

The sisters walked down the wooden patios, looking into windows and chatting. Matthew kept a few steps behind them. Though he hated to admit it, he also looked into the windows.

The blue fabrics were his favorite. Royal, baby, navy, dark, sky blue. He loved them all. He hesitated at a window that had a roll of the lightest blue he had ever seen. It was like the sky had bled into the fabric. He stepped closer to the window, his eyes never leaving the roll.

"Matthew!"

The blond jumped and jogged to catch up with his sisters. He glanced over his shoulder once at the splash of blue, he turned his head back when the fabric disappeared from his sight.

•

"I don't like it!" Grezlda snapped. She was in a freshly sewn dress. Matthew had tried to make it slimming, but the girl was too large to look decent in anything.

Dorlas snorted. "Well if you weren't so fat, Matthew wouldn't have to use a whole roll of fabric and drown you in it."

Grezlda gasped, her large cheeks inflating. "If you weren't so stick thin, maybe we wouldn't have to waste money on medicine every winter!"

Matthew sighed mentally. His fingers hurt from sewing dress after dress for the ungrateful girls. Each had about two by now and none of them had been worthy. They were in a discard pile in the corner, waiting for Matthew to pick out the seams. Maybe he could make himself some new clothes. Or undergarments. Nothing his stepfather would notice of course. That would be idiotic.

"Matthew! Stop sitting there and start my new dress!" Dorlas snapped, apparently becoming bored with bickering with her sister. "I'm thinking pink this time."

Pink was probably the worst color for Dorlas. With her pasty skin and stringy hair, pink would wash her out. But who was Matthew to speak his mind? He just stood and went over to the fabrics. He began measuring and cutting. He had the girl's measurements memorized. He had sewn plenty of clothes for them. Though they insisted on being measured each time in case Grelzda lost a few pounds or if Dorlas gained some weight in the last hour.

"Hurry up, idiot. It's almost time for lunch." Dorlas said, running her witchy fingers through her hair.

Matthew almost dropped his scissors. He forgot to make lunch. What could he tell his stepfather? I was too busy trying to please your demon spawn to make lunch, sorry? That would go over well.

Swallowing thickly, Matthew finished cutting out the parts and began a quick stitch. He helped Dorlas in the dress just to have her snarl and slap him against the cheek. "You know pink isn't my color!" she yelled before ripping the fabric and leaving it on the ground.

Matthew didn't move. He waited until both girls had left the room. Then he gathered the rejected dresses in his arms and jogged from the sewing room. He would have taken the dresses to the garbage, but there was so much fabric from them he wanted to make some new clothes for himself.

He dumped the dresses in his room before running down the stairs. He kept his foot falls quiet as he could as he ran to the kitchen. He prayed to whatever God there was that he wouldn't go past his stepfather.

Luckily, he made it to the kitchen without a hitch. Then he threw open cupboards and ice chests to begin a stew for lunch. He mumbled to himself as he worked on chopping vegetables and salted meat. Though stew was an easy lunch, since he didn't have time to prepare. However It was a heavy food and they would complain all night. He would have to make something light for dinner.

"Boy!"

Matthew jumped and about dropped his stack of bowls. He quickly placed the bowls on the tray before rushing to the door. As he got to the door, his stepfather swung open. "What is taking so long?"

The blond took a step back and twisted his hands together. "It's almost ready." he said softly. "Just a few more minutes.

"Make it snappy." his stepfather gave Matthew one last glare before disappearing behind the door.

Matthew let out a sigh. At least he didn't get hit. He turned and began to dish the soup into the bowls. The steam floated happily out the window above the locked door that lead outside. Matthew watched it float away. With a shake of his head, he added bread to each plate then grabbed the tray.

He used his hip and his back to swing open the door. He was greeted with shouts and glares from his family about how long he took. He ignored them the best he could and placed the bowls in front of each person.

When finished, Matthew took his place at the end of the table, waiting to be excused. After a few disgusting bites from the family, his stepfather dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

Matthew disappeared quickly. In the kitchen, he poured himself a small portion of the stew, his stomach cramping in hunger. He swallowed the hot soup quickly before setting upon his chores.

He went upstairs, careful to avoid the dining area by using the back hallways. He got to the sewing room and signed at the mess the girls left. He began to pick up the loose fabric and rejected dresses. As he pulled the clothes in a pile, Matthew began to realise just how much they're was. They surely wouldn't miss a few things.

Matthew took a peek out of the door before deciding to grab a few darker dresses. He dragged the pile from the sewing room, up the stairs and to his room. He stuffed the fabric under his bed before jogging back to the sewing room and cleaning it up.

Matthew was beginning to get a terrible feeling in his chest. It was something he hadn't felt since before his mother died. It was hope.

His chores were done for the day and he had spent the last week staying up with a single candle sewing the outfit he would be wearing to the ball. The girls' dresses were done.

Everything was looking up. That is, until it was an hour before the ball and Matthew's father decided that the stairs needed to be scrubbed. Again.

Matthew wanted to fight. He wanted to scream and refuse. But where would that get him? A black eye and an absolute no way to the ball? No thanks. So, Matthew set to work.

At the top step, the girls came out of their rooms. Matthew felt his heart jump. He quickly rinsed the step and dried it. Then he turned to find his stepfather.

He didn't have to look far. The fat man was standing below him. "Done?"

"Yes. May I go?" Matthew asked, his voice a whisper.

"Change quickly or we will leave you."

Matthew didn't let his grin spread until he was sprinting up the stairs to his bedroom. He threw off his work clothes and dug the freshly sewn pants and shirt from under his bed. It wasn't the best material for pants, but far away no one could tell.

His shirt was made from one of the girl's bodices. It was pink, a color that Matthew didn't particularly want, but it fit him better than the others. He ran his fingers through his hair and attempted to rub the dirt off his face.

With a small smile to himself, Matthew sprinted back down the stairs. He saw his awful family opening the door. His heart pounded painfully. "Wait I'm ready!"

His stepfather turned to glare at the boy. The girls groaned and halted their steps. "Well, hurry up!" Grelzda snapped.

"I'm coming." Matthew said. He skipped steps as he jogged down the freshly cleaned stairs.

The girls glared at him. Matthew wasn't sure if it was from envy or what, but he fought the smug smile that worked its way on his face.

"I'm ready." Matthew said again breathlessly.

"Took you long enough." his stepfather snapped.

Matthew said nothing. Talking would most likely ruin his chances of going. Instead, he walked straight to the family, his head held high.

"Where did you get that top?" Dorlas suddenly asked.

Fear jumped into Matthew's throat. They couldn't possibly know that he had used their rejected dresses. "I made it."

"Out of what? We never gave you fabric." Grelzda piped up. "Where did you get black pants?"

Matthew caught his lip between his teeth. He couldn't tell them. He would be punished. So he repeated himself. "I made them."

"Out of our dresses!" Dorlas shouted. He took hold of Matthew's sleeve and yanked Matthew to the ground.

"I didn't!" Matthew cried. His hands covered his head. Grelzda ripped at his pants. The girls' sharp shoes and pointy nails dug into Matthew's skin. He didn't try to fight. That would only make it worse.

After a few minutes of yelling and getting pulled at, the girls finally backed away from Matthew. The blond stayed on the ground, his hands covering his head.

"Well, well, looks like you can't come, after all." his stepfather said. Then, with a twirl of his heel, the trio left.

Matthew slowly pushed himself off the ground. His looked around him, the fabric wasn't salvageable. He pushed his hair back and leaving the mess on the ground, made his way outside.

The cool air felt good on his hot cheeks as he ran through the garden. He stopped beside a rose bush and let out a scream. He usually didn't show this much emotion, but he had had it. He was sick of this family and this life. Matthew collapsed to the ground and began to cry.

"Now, now. It's okay." a voice sounded from above Matthew.

The blond jumped up and stared at the man before him. He was dressed in black from neck to toe. His hair, however shimmered silver under the moon and his red eyes glinted. Matthew stared at the man blankly and noticed a small yellow bird perched on his shoulder.

"Who are you?" Matthew asked. His heart was beating in his throat. Who was this man and why was he in his garden?

"I'm your fairy godfather!" the man said. He reached out and wiped at Matthew's tears. "Now up, up. You have a ball to catch."

"What? I don't understand." Matthew said. He rose to his feet, gripping the man's arms.

"I'm Gilbert and I'm here to help. Now let's see. We need a new outfit."

"Wait, wait, wait." Matthew held his hands up. "Explain."

"Well, you see when the big boss man finds a child in need, they get assigned a fairy god mother or father. You got me when your mother died." Gilbert said.

"So, you've been with me this whole time?"

"Sure have."

Matthew stared at the man before standing and throwing his arms about. "Why didn't you save me sooner?" he shouted. "I've been tortured my whole life and you just watched?"

Gilbert raised his hands in surrender. "I had to. We can only interfere in life once. I was saving it."

"For what?" Matthew's blood was boiling. All these years of being a slave when this fairy could have saved him? It was preposterous.

"For when you lost all hope." Gilbert stated calmly.

Matthew's glare dropped as quickly as it found its way on his face. "What?"

"You were always so brave. You looked toward tomorrow, and tonight, you gave up." Gilbert said, a sad smile settling on his face.

"I didn't know." Matthew said. He felt so ashamed with himself. He thought he would never be that kind of person.

"And that is why I am here." Gilbert lifted Matthew's chin. "Now let's see what we can do with that outfit?"

Matthew blinked in confusion as Gilbert helped him to his feet. "How about sky blue? To match your eyes."

"What does this have to do with me losing hope?" Matthew asked.

Gilbert lifted Matthew's arms. "Your step- sisters destroying your chances of going to the ball made you lose hope. So let's get you a chance at that prince, eh?"

"Do you really think I could marry the prince?" Matthew asked after a few moments of Gilbert puttering around him. He suddenly felt relaxed and comfortable around the fairy.

"When I'm done with you, the prince would be an idiot not to want you." Gilbert patted Matthew's cheek.

Matthew felt a grin spread across his face. "Okay, then. Do your magic!"

Gilbert's smile was as bright as the sun. "I thought you'd never ask."

The fairy waved his hands in the air and bubbles descended on Matthew. The blond watched in awe as the bubbles popped, leaving the sky where pink tears were. The golden bird flew over Matthew and pulled at his hair before fluffing it with soft wings.

A few moments passed and the bubbles had all popped. What they left behind was a shy boy whose eyes shone brighter than they had in years.

"You look amazing, Mattie." Gilbert beamed, obviously proud of his work.

Gilbert nodded and with a wave of his hand, a large bubble appeared. It gleamed and shimmered before solidifying into a mirror before Matthew.

Matthew didn't breath as he looked at his reflection. His tousled hair was settled into place, besides a stray curl above his eyes. His glasses were fixed and not a smudge of dirt was on his face. His top was slim fitting and was made from the sky blue fabric he had admired before. Gold stitching held his clothes together. His pants were fitted and shiny black shoes winked at him.

"It's gorgeous." Matthew breathed. He touched his hair. He couldn't believe the reflection was him. Yet his hand followed in the mirror-like bubble.

"It's you that's gorgeous, Birdy." Gilbert replied.

"Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Matthew gushed, unable to contain his excitement.

"Just doing my job. Now let's get you to a ball." Gilbert grinned.


	2. Chapter 2

Cendres

Chapter 2

Gilbert had fashioned his yellow bird into an elegant golden carriage for Matthew. The blond sat in wonder and awe as they drive through the silent city. Everyone was at the ball.

They passed the city edge and with a jolt, Matthew realized he hadn't been this far away from the house since his mother died.

"You okay, Mattie?" Gilbert asked gently, noticing his change in demeanor.

Matthew told his fairy his thought and the magical being frowned. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yes." Matthew said after a slight pause. "I have a feeling everything's going to change tonight."

Gilbert grinned and squeezed the boy's hand. "Me too."

Matthew couldn't breath, but Gilbert kept shoving him up the steps. The guards watched them curiously.

"What it they notice me? What if the Prince doesn't even talk to me? What if I vomit? I feel like I'm going to puke."

"You are going to be fine!" Gilbert squeezed Matthew's shoulders. "But remember, the spell lasts until midnight. Make sure you are right here at midnight and I'll get you. Now, just take a deep breath in," Matthew sucked in a lungful of air. "Now out."

Letting the air out, Matthew relaxed his shoulders as they got to the top the steps of the castle.

"Are you ready?" Gilbert asked.

"No."

"Alright. Go have fun!" Gilbert opened the double doors, ignoring the guards, and shoved Matthew out.

Matthew stumbled but managed to catch himself. A few guards were just inside and asked. He nodded and he slowly made his way up another set of stairs. No one stopped him as he stood in the doorway to the ball room.

A mousey man coughed beside Matthew. "Would you like an announcement?"

"What? No? Can I just go in?"

The man eyed Matthew but let him through with a flourish of his hand. Matthew smiled gratefully and stepped into the ballroom as more guards swung open the doors.

Feeling flustered, Matthew rushed through the doors and found him standing at the top of the stairs, all eyes on him.

He froze as the ballroom fell silent. He thought about searching the crowd for his stepfather, but did not want to alert him of his presence. He descended the stairs as gracefully as he could. His hair on his arms stood on end with all the eyes on him.

When he got the bottom, people began going about their business. However the people nearest him kept staring, not at him, but at someone walking to him.

Matthew frantically looked up to see a tall man working his way to him. By the way the crowd parted for him, Matthew quickly assumed he is the prince and dropped into a bow.

"Please, stand." the prince says gently.

Quickly standing, Matthew kept his eyes downcast. "I'm sorry to interrupt, I came late."

"No, don't be sorry. I'm glad you made it." the prince held out his hand.

Shocked, Matthew took the hand, his own shaking. The prince's hand was soft and gentle against Matthew's skin. It calmed him instantly.

Until the music started back up into a vigorous beat, Matthew didn't realize that the ballroom was silent. He allowed the prince to lead him to the dancefloor and Matthew felt a jump in his chest.

"I can't dance." Matthew quickly sputtered out.

"Nonsense!" the prince placed his hand in Matthew's waist and kept his hand firmly in his own.

"No, really. I don't know how." Matthew said. He knew he was trembling under this man's touch, but he couldn't help himself.

"Just follow my lead." gentle blue eyes helped relax Matthew, but he was still nervous as they took their first steps.

After a few moments of twirling and stepping in large and small circles, Matthew found his voice again. "So, Prince-"

"Please, call me Francis." The prince spun Matthew and pulled them chest to chest. "I never got your name."

Breathless from the dance and their closeness, Matthew was able to get his name out.

The prince, actually, Francis, smiled and caressed Matthew's cheek. "What a lovely name for a lovely man."

Matthew blushed and tucked his freshly magic cleaned hair behind his ear. "I wouldn't know about that."

Francis smiled and took Matthew's hands. "Want to see the gardens?"

Looking around the crowded room and the eyes boring into Matthew's head, the shorter nodded. "That would be nice."

The sea of people parted for Francis, who kept Matthew's hand firmly on his elbow. Matthew was glad, he was afraid the looks he was receiving would be hits and kicks otherwise.

"It has gotten a bit stuffy in here, it would be nice to take a stroll." Francis continued, apparently unaware of the glares.

Matthew could only now in agreement.

Once outside, Matthew was able to breathe. Roses scented the air from what looked like a maze. His newly found breath was taken away by the stars and palace garden. "Its beautiful."

Francis chuckled and plucked a rose. Ridding it of thorns, he deftly tucked it behind Matthew's ear, pushing the hair from his eyes. "It's my favorite spot in the whole palace"

A blush that rivaled the rose covered Matthew's cheeks. "I can understand why."

They linked hands and wandered into the maze. Francis kept the conversation going. From the food to the guests to the stars. Then he had a comment that made Matthew halt.

"Tell me about your family."

Frozen in place, Matthew avoided Francis's eye, glad the rose gave him some sort of wall. "It's not a subject for this time, really"

Francis nodded. "I understand. Childhood is not always easy is it?"

Matthew smiled gently. "I guess not."

"Anyway, I think we're lost."

Looking around, Matthew found he had no idea where they were. "You don't know your own garden?"

"I usually have a guard to lead me around." Francis chuckled.

Matthew covered his mouth to laugh. "How do we get out?"

"I'm sure someone will come looking soon, it's almost midnight." Francis replied looking at a pocketwatch.

About falling over, Matthew took a few steps away from Francis. "I have to go."

"What? Now?" the prince raised his eyes to look at Matthew. Something wasn't right. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I just, I must leave." Matthew turned and dashed through the maze.

"Wait! Let me help you!" Francis called and took after him.

For a prince, he was quick, and Matthew had no idea where he was going. He just went. Even if he had to plow through the roses, he would get out before Francis saw who he really was.

"Wait, Matthew!" Francis called. "What's wrong?"

Matthew kept running, not looking back. He didn't shout a reply, but he did call for someone.

"Gilbert!" Matthew panted. "Please help me!"

A soft glow appeared at the next fork in the maze. Matthew followed it, trusting it was his fairy. He heard Francis make the same turn and pumped his arms harder as he ran. At the next turn, he felt his rose come loose from his hair.

He stopped to pick it up but saw the clock as he spun around. Two minutes. He had two minutes to get home and out of sight. He left the rose, though it hurt his heart to do so.

Francis sped around the corner and scooped up the rose as he ran by. "Matthew please!"

Holding back tears, Matthew burst through the maze, loose petals and leaves flying with him. Gilbert stood before him in a bubble large enough to hold ten people. Without a second thought, Matthew ran through the bubble. A few petals followed him and he closed his hand gratefully around the soft flower.

Gilbert smiled at him and placed his hand on his shoulder. "Time to go."

Matthew nodded. He didn't look back as Francis called for him again. He just closed his eyes and let Gilbert use his magic to take him away.

"Hurry and hide that." Gilbert said, popping the bubble. They stood in the middle of Matthew's room. Silent and sad.

His clothes had changed back to rags, but Matthew didn't care. He still had his rose petal cradled in his hand. "Thank you, Gilbert."

His fairy caressed his face and smiled sadly. "That's what I'm here for."

Matthew closed his fingers around the petal. "I'm going to go change."

"I'll keep a lookout." Gilbert patted Matthew's cheek and walked through the door.

Changing, Matthew stuffed the ruined clothes under his bed, then laid on his blankets. He traced the petal lightly, his fingers shaking. He didn't realize he was crying until Gilbert came back in his room.

"Hey, birdie." Gilbert wrapped his arms around Matthew. "I'm sorry."

Matthew leaned against the fairy. He wasn't sure if he was crying because his wonderful night was over, or that he would never see Francis again.

"Wanna talk about it?" Gilbert said softly.

"What's there to talk about? I'm back to being a prisoner in my own house." Matthew said, not bothering to hide the bitterness in his voice.

"I meant about your night out." Gilbert tried to cover up.

Matthew closed his eyes. "He ignored everyone to be with me. We danced, then went outside to this maze." he sighed. "He was so nice and perfect and handsome and… I want to go back."

"He sounds lovely." Gilbert said. "I wish I could fix things for you."

"Why can't you?" Matthew asked. He heard the door open downstairs, then the stomping of feet and the girls' whining.

"We're only meant to help, not fix completely. When we do that, people become selfish and expect us to do everything for them."

Matthew nodded in understanding, but it didn't make him feel better.

"Why are you still here?" Matthew asked, genuinely curious. Gilbert had helped him meet the prince, what else was there to help with?

At Gilbert's hurt expression, Matthew quickly told the fairy his thoughts, who nodded in understanding.

"I actually don't know why I'm still here. We usually only hang around for one spell." Gilbert explained.

Matthew started to reply but the voices on the stairs leading to his room made him roll over and pretend to sleep. He barely closed his eyes when the door was thrown open. He didn't have to fake his jump of surprise, but he did blink his eyes owlishly at his stepfather and sisters.

"There's no way that could have been him!" Dorlas screeched.

"Who?" Matthew asked. "Did I do something wrong?"

"What did you do after we left?" his stepfather snapped.

"Cleaned up and went to bed." Matthew didn't stand up. He was afraid the rose petal would slip from his blankets and reveal what he did. "Did something happen?"

"An unknown boy went in and hid away with the prince all night!" Grelzda whined. "The prince didn't even _look_ at me!"

Matthew stood silently as the girls whined about their night. Now that he had cried after a wonderful, but long, night, Matthew was tired and wanted to sleep. Not to mention he had to get up to make these morons breakfast.

"Don't worry girls," Matthew's stepfather said, finally herding them from Matthew's room. "I'll find someone rich for you two to marry."

"Maybe so, but it won't be the prince!" Dorlas cried, tears dripping off her pointed chin.

"I hate that boy!" Grelzda sobbed, her fat cheeks wet with her own tears.

Matthew shut the door behind them and sighed. "I want to get out of this house."

"I know, birdie." Gilbert said softly, appearing above Matthew's bed. "But I'm still here, so something is going to happen."

"I hope sooner rather than later." Matthew mumbled, getting into bed.

Gilbert landed on the foot of the bed and patted Matthew's knee. "Get some sleep. That'll help."

Matthew doubted it, but he was glad to have Gilbert's gentle touch as he drifted off.

Though sleep didn't really help Matthew's mood, something else did.

"A message from the palace!" Grelzda shrieked as Matthew set the table. She came tearing in the dining room, making the fat man look up from his paper.

"What are you going on about, girl?" the man grumped.

Matthew slowed his movements, not wanting to draw attention to himself, but not wanting to leave the room. Had Francis found him? Is that what that letter was?

"A letter?" Dorlas asked, taking her seat at the table. "Did you say from the palace?"

"Yes!" Grelzda jumped in the air, her ugly dress fluttering around her. "Maybe the prince did notice us! We're going to get married!"

The girls continued to shriek as Matthew snuck his way back into the kitchen. "Gilbert!" he hissed, hoping his fairy would show.

Gilbert appeared above the sink, grinning. "Have you read the letter?"

"No, I was hoping you could eavesdrop?" Matthew asked. He knew it was wrong, but he _had_ to know.

"I already know." Gilbert laughed and wrapped his arms around Matthew. "The prince is going to come from house to house, asking everyone who could have attended the ball to present him with a flower petal. When he is presented with one he approves of, he will marry whoever gave it to him."

Matthew furrowed his brow. Such a strange way to find a bride. Then it hit him. Francis must have seen him take the rose from the maze, and now he was looking for him.

"Oh, Gilbert!" Matthew breathed.

"I know, birdie!" Gilbert cheered. Matthew was glad the fairy was invisible and silent to others beside him.

"He's coming for me!" Matthew hugged Gilbert tightly. "Thank you!"

"It was all you!" Gilbert petted Matthew's hair. "Your life is going to change for the better."

Matthew squeezed the fairy as he felt his heart fill for the first time in a long time. Someone was looking out for him, and another was looking to be with him. He had a chance at having a love filled life! He couldn't wait for Francis to come get him.


	3. Chapter 3

Cendres

Chapter 3

"Matthew!" the screech came from the dining room.

With an apologetic look at Gilbert, Matthew scurried to answer the call. "Yes?"

"We need flowers!" Grelzda said around her mouthful of food.

Matthew furrowed his brow, pretending to seem confused. "From the garden?"

"No, you dumb boy. We need fresh bulbs, fresh flowers." Dorlas rolled her eyes.

"We have plenty of fresh flowers in the garden. Why would we need to plant more?" Matthew asked, silently enjoying the girls' frustration.

"Stop playing dumb and do what you were told!" the fat man bellowed.

Matthew jumped and quickly averted his gaze to his shoes. "What kind of flowers would you like?"

"Blue roses, to match his eyes." Grelzda sighed. Matthew didn't feel the need to tell her that blue roses, do to their meaning, would make marrying the Prince impossible.

"Go find me a striped carnation." Dorlas said. "Carnations are worn to weddings. Stripes will help me stand out." Struggling not to roll his eyes, Matthew had no trouble keeping the knowledge that stripes on carnations meant refusal.

Nodding his head as he made for the back door, Matthew was glad his mother had taught him the language of flowers before she died.

Gilbert floated lazily behind Matthew as he walked around the plant nursery. "So, you're telling me those witches want flowers that mean the exact opposite of what they want to tell the Prince?"

Matthew nodded minutely as he picked up a bulb for blue roses.

"And you have no plan on telling them what they mean?"

Nodding again, Matthew strode past Gilbert like he wasn't there. He was in no way ignoring the fairy, but people already whispered about him being abused, he didn't want to add crazy to the list.

"This is gonna be great." Gilbert cackled. His little golden bird chirped with pleasure.

Matthew smiled at the two as he left the flowershop, arms full with the bulbs he would need to plant right away.

As he walked, Matthew thought of different scenarios as to what could happen with the flowers. He could simply let them die, but that would mean he would get hit. He could also cut them wrong for a bouquet, but that would lead to the same result. Francis could misunderstand the flowers and think them beautiful. Francis could also get offended by the flowers and have the girls thrown in jail, especially when he finds out just how they treated Matthew. Maybe his stepfather could join them.

When he arrived home, Matthew bypassed the house and went straight to the garden. He really didn't want to be bombarded by chores until he got the flowers properly planted.

"What flower are you going to give to the Prince?" Gilbert asked. He sat beside Matthew in the grass and helped dig through the dirt.

"It's not exactly a flower." Matthew mumbled, not wanting the girls or his stepfather to hear him.

Gilbert had a look of confusion. Matthew raised his eyes and smiled. "It's a rose petal."

It took Gilbert about three seconds before his eyes widened. "The petal you have from the ball!"

Matthew grinned and nodded. "I think it was meant to be a trick, requesting the flower. Like to see if it really is me."

"Oh, Birdie, this is so exciting!" Gilbert said, flitting about.

Giggling as Matthew watched his fairy, he stood and dusted off his pants. Not that it did any good. "I have to go prepare dinner. Care to keep me company?"

"I would love-"

" _Boooooy!_ " the rough shout shook Matthew to the bones. Gilbert quickly disappeared.

"Y-yes, sir?" Matthew called weakly.

"Did you get those flowers planted?" the man appeared at the second story window overlooking the garden.

"Just finished, sir. I was about to start dinner."

"Make it snappy!" the man glared and Matthew felt the heat of it even from so far away.

"Would you like anything in particular?" Matthew asked. He wished Gilbert could make himself seen and hold his hand, just to stop it from shaking so bad.

"Just make it good. We're having guests over." the man shut the window.

Matthew sighed and went to the kitchen. Guests ment he had to stay in the kitchen unless he was serving the meal. Then he had to clean the dining area, hide back in the kitchen and wait until the guests left to clean the parlor. He was going to be up all night.

"What a horrid man." Gilbert grumbled, appearing again.

"Tell me about it." Matthew washed his hands and began listing ingredients in his head.

Gilbert sighed. "If only there were other maids. You could posion them and frame someone else."

Matthew's jaw dropped, though he laughed. " _Gilbert!_ I might hate them, but killing them is a little unnecessary."

The fairy shrugged.

"Not to mention that sounds _very_ un-fairy like and you would probably lose your wings for murder." Matthew said softly. He went around the kitchen, gathering everything he would need.

"I'm not going to kill them!" Gilbert said, exasperated. "It was just a _suggestion._ "

Matthew swatted at Gilbert who just cackled like a naughty child.

"Hurting someone or _killing_ them is never the way to do anything." Matthew chided.

"I know. You probably know that better than anyone." Gilbert said, his voice now gentle.

With a humble smile on his bruised and dirty face, Matthew continued to cook dinner for the people who hurt him.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Arthur, royal advisor to Prince Francis, asked. _Again._ "I'm just saying, you met the boy for one night!"

"Yes, I am sure." Francis said. _Again._ "It might have been for a few hours, but he was different."

Arthur raised a large dark eyebrow, a shocking contrast to his blond hair. "How was he different? You say all these people are only after your title and money. Why is this one any better?"

"He didn't ask me anything." Francis said with a grin, begging Arthur to understand.

"What?" Arthur folded his arms.

"He didn't ask me how much money I have, or how much my outfit was, or how many jewels were on the crown. He teased me about getting lost in the maze, he didn't know how to dance, he was…" Francis waved his hands, looking for a word that described Matthew.

"Humble?" Arthur asked, still refusing to believe that this boy was going to be queen.

"Yes! That's exactly it. He wanted to know _me._ Not Prince Francis." the blond said, a beautiful smile on his perfect face.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "How do you know it wasn't an act?"

At this, Francis paused. Finally, he spoke. "I just know."

Another eye roll from the advisor. "This is ridiculous."

"Lets at least give him a chance. If he really wasn't faking it, he will present the rose petal." Francis said. He took Arthur's hands, pleading for him to understand. "I saw him grab one, he knows I'm looking for him now. I know he'll show that petal to the guards. They have their orders to bring anyone who has just a petal to me."

At last, Arthur sighed. "If you insist, your Highness."

"Oh, don't use that at me." Francis waved his hands. He made his way to the door of his office, Arthur hot on his heels.

"Is everything ready to begin the search?" Francis asked.

"All the letters were sent out. We're just prepping the guards who will go out. I'm making a few rounds tonight to scope out families. Make sure they aren't lying or hiding anything." Arthur said. "Should we change their instructions to look for young men though? I feel if they look for girls also, it could get troublesome."

Francis shook his head. "I don't want anyone to take extreme measures to prove who they are. People can get crazy."

Arthur quirked a brow. "Are you saying these girls would pretend to be men if you say you are looking for a male?"

"Quite possibly. Or even harming boys around them to boost their chances." Francis found his way to the guard's courtyard. The strapping men stood in rows, listening to their commanding officer.

"I don't know if that makes you intelligent or vain." Arthur mumbled beside him.

Francis smirked. "It makes me smarter than you."

Arthur scoffed. Despite being his advisor, the two had grown up together. Arthur's father had been the Head Guard for the King, and since both boys were the same age, King Leo had insisted the boys play together.

"Hardly. Unlike you, I had to study for my position." Arthur said smoothly.

Francis grinned as he watched the guards break for their afternoon meal. "You don't think being a prince is hard work?"

"Ah, yes. All this chasing around for a boy you met for an hour seems exhausting on you." Arthur mumbled. He then looked down at his schedule, which was quickly knocked from his hands.

"Francis!" Arthur roared, dropping all formalities as the two wrestled for the small book.

Finally, Francis handed Arthur back his schedule as the king made an appearance. "A Prince does not wrestle."

"Sorry, Father." Francis said sheepishly.

The king, an older replica of Francis just smiled fondly at the two friends. "I see you have my soldiers going on a wild goose chase."

"They'll find him." Francis said, suddenly serious.

"Are you sure you want to do this? What if you end up not liking the boy like you think." the king asked. He folded his arms behind his back and stood next to his son.

"I'm sure he's the one." Francis said confidently. "Prepare the guards to set out tomorrow."

"Let me hit him at least _once_ ," Gilbert whined.

Matthew was shaking with anger and fear. He didn't know the guest would be from the king's court. When he didn't bow upon entering and leaving the dining hall, his stepfather had come to the kitchen and gave him a swift blow to the stomach. Couldn't do it to his face, not yet. They had to look decent in front of the only man who could say if the two sisters got to marry Prince Francis.

"No," Matthew hissed. His stomach hurt terribly, it was sure to bruise. "You'll only make it worse."

Gilbert frowned. "Then let me see it."

Matthew glanced at the door and tenderly lifted his filthy shirt. Gilbert settled in front of him and laid his fingers gingerly on the already darkening spot. "I'm going to break a fairy rule, you must never speak of it."

"Wait, don't get in trouble on my-" Matthew was cut off by hot and cold bubbles popping on his sensitive skin. Gilbert had pursed his lips and blew bubble after bubble against the spot. It hurt like hell, then the pain was gone and the bubbles stopped.

"There. That should do it." Gilbert grinned and patted Matthew's shoulder. "Best get out there before I need to do that trick again."

Matthew smiled gratefully and pushed back his tears. "Thank you," he fixed his shirt and grabbed the next tray to be brought to the dining room.

"...you see my girls are perfect for a wife." the fat man was saying.

Their guest was a blond man with rather bushy eyebrows and bright green eyes. He had introduced himself as Arthur Kirkland. After witnessing the treatment of Matthew by the fat man, he had coldly told the family to address him as Sir Kirkland.

"Yes they are...lovely girls." Kirkland said with a tight smile. Matthew had to bite his cheek to keep from smirking.

The fat man didn't seem to notice and continued to slurp his soup. The girls batted their eyes and pushed up their bosoms as they ate. Matthew felt sick to his stomach.

"And these are the only candidates that went to the ball?" Kirkland asked, his eyes steady on Matthew as he slid a plate dangerously close to Grelzda's breast.

"Yes, yes. The boy wasn't allowed to go. Far too young." Matthew's stepfather said.

"Really? He looks old enough." Kirkland faced Matthew, a gentle smile on his otherwise stern face. "What's your name?"

Matthew swallowed thickly and looked at his stepfather. Should he answer? Would it be worse if he didn't? Maybe Sir Kirkland saw his situation and was trying to help?

"Matthew," he finally let out.

Kirkland paused. "I see. How old are you?"

Another glance at the fat man. His round face was red with anger.

"Seventeen. I'll be eighteen soon." Matthew said softly.

"And you didn't attend the party?" Kirkland asked, his large brows furrowed.

"N-no." Matthew felt his hands shaking and he wished Gilbert would make him disappear.

"How come?"

Matthew glanced at his stepfather. "I had to clean."

"Hmm. Well, that will be everything. Thank you, Matthew." Kirkland stood. "It was a lovely meal, Sir Williams, but I will take my leave now."

"The meal has barely started!" The fat man stuttered.

"I have many other meals to attend to. If you'll excuse me." Kirkland walked to the door, his guard close behind him. "I'll show myself out."

Once outside, Arthur looked at his guard. "I want a family history on all the residents that live here."

"Even the boy?" the guard asked, helping Arthur into the carriage.

"Especially the boy. I have a feeling that he will be our future queen." Arthur smiled and marked the address in his book. Francis was going to have a fit.


	4. Chapter 4

Cendres

Chapter 4

"He _what_?" Francis about choked on his breakfast.

"He is an orphan. Though his mother remarried before she died. His guardian is now Robert Williams, a widow to two wives. I'm afraid his step-father treats him like a slave," Arthur said. He had pushed his breakfast aside and had papers strewn across the table.

Francis's face contorted into rage. Though it was not the fury of his loved being hurt, but of how a human being could be so cruel to another. "Was he healthy at least?"

Arthur let out a sigh. Matthew had been bruised and dirty. The hit Robert Williams had blown behind closed doors was clearly heard in the dining room, but neither girl seemed affected. The boy looked half starved and was very frightened. How could Arthur tell Francis that? At last, he answered, though vaguely. "He wasn't well, Francis."

The prince stood quickly, his chair making a harsh noise as he did. "We must go to him at once!"

Arthur copied Francis, but at a slower rate. "As much as I agree, I have to disagree. If we just go bursting in, it could end badly. We need to think this through."

"I want him arrested, Arthur," Francis said. "We can't let Matthew live there a second longer."

"I know, Francis, but this needs to be planned. What if someone sees us coming and they alert Robert and he does something even worse to be boy?"

Francis breathed heavily through his nose. "Fine. What if we continued with the flower representation? We'll just have to make sure Matthew presents his, then we take him here."

"What if he doesn't have the right flower? Just because he looked like how described, doesn't mean he's your mystery dancer."

"Then we arrest Williams and charge him for abuse," Francis said, growing upset.

"We can't just arrest him. We need proof. Evidence, witnesses to the abuse," Arthur raised his hands, like he was calming a wild horse.

"Isn't Matthew enough proof?" Francis was on the verge of yelling. A few maids flinched from their spot by the door. The prince never got this angry.

"I'm afraid it won't hold in a court," Arthur said. "Robert Williams, despite his awfulness, is a nobel. It would be his word against Matthew's. Not to mention he would include his other daughters."

Francis frowned and sank into his chair. "What about you? And the guard that went with you?"

"Alfred?" Arthur furrowed his large brows. "That might work."

"So we just need to get Matthew here." Francis said. The maids in the room began to relax, glad Francis was back to his calm self.

"That would be rather easy. He just needs to present his flower." Arthur said. He gathered his papers. "I'll go with the guards going to Matthew's house."

"Hurry, they're leaving soon," Francis said. He glanced about the room and flicked his fingers towards a guard with blond hair and stunning blue eyes. "Take Alfred with you."

Arthur visibly blushed and picked up his work. "Alright then, we should be back in time for supper."

"Remember what flower you're looking for?" Francis looked nervous. His smile was gone from his face and his hands had a slight tremor to them.

"A rose petal. And it will probably be shriveled up and dead," Arthur smirked. "Don't worry, we'll get him."

After Kirkland had left the night before, Robert Williams had backed Matthew into a corner and hit him for twelve minutes. Once his anger had been let out, Robert backed away and glared. "Clean up this mess," he had said while waving his hand over the blood from Matthew's mouth and the abandoned food. "Then go to your room and don't leave until I say."

Matthew could only nod through his tears and blood as the fat man finally left him alone. Once he was gone, Matthew mopped his face and floor with a rag before tackling the dining area. Gilbert looked on, unable to help. The fairy rules were strict, and he had broken too many. If he helped now, he wouldn't be able to help when Matthew would _really_ need it.

Gilbert did help once they were back in Matthew's room. He cleaned the blood off as gingerly as he could while Matthew held his wilted rose petal in his hands. His eyes were bruised and his nose was broken. Gilbert broke another rule to fix it. His ribs and arms were black and yellow from deflecting the blows.

The next morning, Matthew woke with a headache and another bloody nose. Gilbert wiped him up, but didn't dare use any magic.

"They're not coming back," Matthew said suddenly, his voice muffled by the rag Gilbert had pressed to his face.

"Who's not coming back, Birdie?" Gilbert asked tenderly. He lifted the rag to see if the bleeding had stopped. Another drop came out and he pushed it back on.

"Anyone," Matthew looked at Gilbert. "That man knows the girls aren't who the prince is looking for, and I told him I didn't go to the ball. He's not coming back."

"You don't know that," Gilbert said sternly.

Matthew just lowered his eyes and fingered the dried petal.

"Boy!" the door rattled with the shout. "Get down here and cook my breakfast!"

Gilbert glared at the door. He had half a mind to tell that man off, even if it meant losing his wings. He was tired of how he treated Matthew.

Matthew pushed Gilbert away and stood. "I have to go."

"Wait, what if you didn't?" Gilbert stood and set the soiled rag on Matthew's small nightstand.

"I would be punished," Matthew looked at Gilbert like he grew a second head.

"No, not that. What if you came with me?" Gilbert grinned. "To the fairy world. I can talk to Ludwig, he's my baby brother, but he's also in charge of all the fairies. I'm sure-"

"Gilbert, it's not going to work. Live with fairies? You're always going on about breaking rules. The number one rule is probably bringing a human to your world."

"No," Gilbert pouted, looking much like a scolded dog. "The number one rule is showing yourself to a human you're not assigned to."

"And what happens when you break enough rules?" Matthew opened the door.

"I lose my wings."

"Exactly, so leave me alone," tears were swimming in Matthew's pretty blue eyes, but his voice was steady. He didn't want to be mean to Gilbert, he was just so sick of trying. Nothing worked for him, he was just meant to stay in this house and be miserable. Some people don't get a happy ending, and he was one of them.

Matthew went downstairs, his head hung low. "Yes, sir?"

"The prince's guards are coming to determine who the future queen will be. They had just started so I estimate you have two hours to clean the house and dress the girls," Robert William said, a smug look on his face. "You will also need to pick the flowers for the girls."

Trying not to show any emotion, Matthew nodded once. "Yes, sir. Will I retire to my room when they arrive?"

"Yes, and you'll stay there until dinner. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," with a small bow, Matthew went to fetch his cleaning supplies.

Arthur clutched Alfred's hand as they pulled up to the third house. They still had quite a few houses to go, but he was getting increasingly nervous the closer they got to the William's residence.

"It'll be okay, Artie," the guard murmured as they came to a stop. "I know he was an awful man, but I won't let anything happen to you."

Arthur smiled weakly. "Thank you. Now go check this house. I don't want that poor boy to be there any second longer."

Alfred grinned and kissed Arthur on his cheek. Then he hopped out of the carriage and trotted inside with another guard.

It only took a few minutes before Alfred was climbing back into the carriage.

"How did it go?" Arthur asked. Mostly to have something to distract him from what felt like impending doom.

"They were lillies. There was a younger girl too, no more than eight, claiming she was who the Prince was looking for," Alfred chuckled.

Arthur felt his face crack into a genuine smile. "How cute. Don't tell Francis though, we don't need his head any bigger."

Alfred laughed and draped his arm casually around Arthur's shoulders. It was nice to drop formalities between them, though everyone knew they were together. Alfred is Arthur's assigned guard. He had been since Arthur was twelve and Alfred was merely training alongside his father, who guarded Arthur's father. Alfred had wanted it to remain as professional as he could, but when Arthur hit a growth spurt, Alfred couldn't resist.

"How many more houses before Matthew's?" Arthur asked. He leaned into Alfred's warmth, taking comfort from it.

"Just a couple. What are you going to say?"

"I don't know. I just hope I can hold it together long enough to get Matthew out," Arthur sighed.

"You'll be okay," Alfred pressed a kiss to Arthur's temple.

"I know I will, I just hope Matthew is."

"You're not even going to try?" Gilbert asked.

"No, because there's nothing to try for." Matthew glared over his shoulder. He had just finished dressing the girls and was now outside picking flowers for their bouquets.

It's not that Matthew didn't want to try, he just couldn't find the heart to. I had seen the way Kirkland looked at him. He wasn't coming back. Hell, Matthew wouldn't come back for himself. He was bruised and dirty and unwanted. He really didn't blame Kirkland for leaving in such a rush.

"Come on, Matthew. They should be almost here. I'll help clean you up," Gilbert tried again.

"Even if he did come back, _he'll_ never let me show them the rose petal," Matthew stood, his arms full of flowers. They were beautiful despite their meanings.

"You don't know that," Gilbert prodded. "He's on his way, I just know it."

Matthew huffed. "Fine, say that Kirkland man _does_ come back, that fat bastard won't let me out of my room. Now drop it and let me live the rest of this miserable like I'm peace!" he was breathing heavily. He never talked like that, but it felt good to finally let loose.

However, that all came crashing down at Gilbert's hurt expression. "I was just trying to help. That's what fairy godmothers do."

"Gilbert-"

"No, you don't need to say anything else," Gilbert mumbled. Matthew had never seen the fairy look so sad. "Let's get you inside."

As if on cue, the fat man stuck his large head out the window and Gilbert blinked away. "Boy! Get in here _now_ , the carriage is two houses down!"

"Yes, sir," Matthew called. He cast a look around to see if Gilbert would reappear. When he didn't, Matthew trudged inside.

The girls were positioned at the bottom of the stairs. Dorlas in an ugly pink and Grelzda in a ghastly yellow. Matthew handed them each their small bouquet of flowers and turned to his stepfather for instructions.

"Perfect, I'll open the door when they come. Dorlas, you'll go first, then Grelzda," the fat man pointed to each daughter. "And tell me what you will be saying,"

Dorlas cleared her throat and sounded very much like a squirrel. "Hello, I am Dorlas Williams. I am eighteen and attended the ball with my sister. Here are my flowers I chose to show to Prince Francis," she demonstrated her curtsy and holding out the flowers.

"Very good. Grelzda, you next."

The chunkier girl patted her hair before dipping into a curtsy. "Grelzda Williams, pleased to meet you. I am seventeen and went to the ball with my sister. These are the flowers I would like to present to Prince Francis."

"Amazing, dear," the fat man praised. Then all eyes fell on Matthew. "And what would you be doing?"

Matthew resisted the urge to sigh. "I'll be in my room, not making any noise and pretending I don't exist."

"If only you could do that all the time," Dorlas said. "But we wouldn't have anyone to clean the house."

Grelzda chortled. "Or empty the chamber pots."

The girls dissolved into ugly giggles. Matthew felt his face heat up. He hated those girls.

The fat man smirked and went to the window facing the street. "They're next door. Get to your room, boy."

Matthew nodded and turned to the stairs. He didn't look back as he climbed the steps. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing how upset he was.

He got to the top of the stairs and saw the fat man following him. Matthew furrowed his brow but proceeded to his room. Once inside, he began to close the door, but his stepfather grabbed the edge.

"I mean it, not a peep," the fat man ground out.

"Yes, sir," Matthew said softly.

"And so you don't ruin the girls' chances," he held up a key. "You're going to stay locked in here until they leave."

Matthew didn't reply. There was a knock at the door and the fat man grinned. "That would be them." He shut the door and with a loud _clang_ , Matthew was locked in his room.


	5. Chapter 5

Cendres

Chapter Five

Arthur held his breath as he waited for the door to open. He felt Alfred's hand briefly on his back and he leaned into the touch while it was there. Finally, the door opened and revealed Robert Williams. Arthur tried not to grimace.

"Sir Kirkland! I wasn't expecting you!" Williams sounded strained in Arthur's presence.

"Well," Arthur pushed past Robert and into his home. It was incredibly rude, but it felt good to disrespect the man. "I talked to Prince Francis, and he believes that his future bride is in this very house," he ignored the girls as they waved and giggled.

"Wonderful news!" Robert clapped his hands. "Which of my girls is going to be queen?"

Arthur looked between the two ugly sisters. It was quite a shame they were brought up this way. They would have been beautiful if they weren't such terrible human beings. "Neither of them. I'm looking for the boy."

Upstairs, Matthew felt his heart stop, then speed up to an almost painful pounding. He had his ear pressed against the locked door and could faintly make out what was being said.

"There is no boy," the fat man said. "If you are looking for my servant, I'm afraid I had to fire him."

Matthew struck his fist against his wooden door. He smirked when it made a hefty _thump_. There was no way the fat man could explain that.

"What's going on upstairs?" Kirkland said. He sounded closer, like he had begun to ascend the stairs.

"The girls got a new cat. He's been making a mess of the whole house," the fat man said. He sounded convincingly upset about his fictional cat.

"Sounds like a big cat," a new voice said. Someone was with Kirkland.

"You know how kittens are, doing things that will only get them in trouble," his stepfather said. Matthew assumed it was a warning for him. "Grelzda, why don't you calm the cat down?"

Matthew scrambled away from his door as he heard Grelzda's heavy footsteps approach his room. Just as his door opened, Matthew barely had time to duck before the flower vase kept in the hall came shooting for his head.

"You stupid cat! Stay off the furniture!" Grelzda quickly wailed. Then she narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice. "You better stop that before Daddy gets mad."

Standing, Matthew matched her glare. "Let me downstairs."

Grelzda was obviously taken aback and gaped at Matthew. He never stood up for himself, much less talked back. "I'll get him to come up here and knock some sense into you."

"He wouldn't with them here," Matthew hissed.

"They can't stay here forever," Grelzda smiled wickedly.

Matthew flinched and the girl shut his door softly. It was probably more frightening than a slam.

Arthur _knew_ that poor boy was in the house. They couldn't search the grounds without a warrant or arrest, and Arthur had neither.

"If my girls are not who you are looking for," Williams said after his larger daughter had come back down the stairs and whispered in his ear. "I'll have to ask you to leave."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. He couldn't _force_ his way upstairs and to Matthew's aid without a good reason. Williams had enough money to charge Arthur with trespassing and Arthur had no evidence to prove he was rescuing the boy besides the boy himself. It wouldn't hold up in court. Who would the jury believe? A wealthy man or a servant boy, whether they were technically related or not. Williams was the head of this house and his word was law.

"Very well," Arthur kept his mouth in a firm line. "We'll take our leave."

Dorlas and Grelzda looked on the verge of tears. "We're not going to marry Prince Francis?" Dorlas sniffed.

Arthur had trouble hiding a smirk. "I'm afraid not. Come, Alfred."

They left quietly. Arthur thought he heard stomping and muffled shouting in the house, but shook his head clear of the noise. In the carriage, Arthur struck his fist against the door.

"Artie…" Alfred reached out and grabbed Arthur's hand.

"I _know_ he's in there, Alfred," Arthur snapped. "And I can't do anything about it."

"Take it easy, we'll figure something out," Alfred tried to sooth.

"That man is a terrible, terrible fu _-_ " the carriage lurched and Arthur fell unceremoniously in Alfred's arms.

"Are you all right?" Alfred exclaimed.

"Yes, just go see why we stopped," Arthur huffed.

Alfred nodded and opened the door to let himself out. Before he could take a step down, a man was in front of him. White-blond hair and red eyes wild.

"You have to help!" he shouted.

"What on earth-" Alfred stumbled back inside the carriage.

"Help with what?" Arthur asked the strange man.

"Matthew!" the man shouted. "They're going to kill him!"

Matthew held his breath as he heard Kirkland depart. There went his only chance of freedom. He backed away from his door and slumped on his bed. He stared blankly at a spot on the floor.

When he heard footsteps coming up the stairs, he jerked himself to his feet and scrambled to the far side of the room. The door rattled as the key was thrust inside, then slammed open to reveal his stepfather and sisters.

"You went to that ball," the fat man growled.

Matthew felt a sob catch in his throat. "No!"

"You did!" fury contorted his face. Matthew pressed his back against the wall as far as he could manage. His stepfather looked over him. "I should have killed you while I had the chance! I should have killed you along with your mother!" he kicked Matthew with each sentence. Matthew fell to the floor and attempted to cover his face.

Trembling with fear and pain, Matthew was somehow able to decipher the fat man's shouts. "My mother died because she was ill!"

The fat man laughed humorlessly. "Who do you think made her sick? You obviously didn't get her brains because she knew it was me the moment she started losing herself," he was grinning. It made fear clog up Matthew's throat. "I killed her for her money. Then she told me she had none so I threatened your life as a payback. She _begged_ me to take care of you. To save you. You should have seen her, it would put you right in your place." A kick landed on Matthew's stomach. He refused to cry out. "I could have killed you, but thought it would be nice to have her owe me for the rest of your miserable life!"

Matthew covered his face the best he could, but the blows kept coming. At one point, he felt his body go numb. He thought he might have felt bubbles popping on his skin, but he blacked out before he could fully understand what they were.

He couldn't help. He was already in too much trouble. One more screw up and he would have to leave Matthew forever.

Gilbert watched from the corner of the room, invisible and useless. He hated the man more and more with each hit and kick.

He wished desperately to help, but was unable to interfere. He was sure if he revealed himself now, it would only make things worse for Matthew.

Unless _he_ wasn't the one to stop the fat man.

Gilbert sent Matthew a stream of comforting bubbles before closing his eyes and imagining the carriage he saw leave moments ago.

When he opened his eyes he saw a horse first, then a frightened coach man. Gilbert quickly ran to the side as the horse was yanked to a stop. The carriage lurched and shouts were heard from the inside. He got to the side and yanked the door open. Kirkland's guard stared at him owlishly.

Arthur clamored out of the carriage and sprinted for the Williams manor. It was undignified for him to run, but it was worse to leave that poor boy waiting a moment longer. They had a witness, they had proof. And if Matthew was injured (heaven forbid) they could make a case out of this.

Alfred passed him and flew through the front door. The strange man lagged back and didn't follow them up the stairs.

Arthur heard the yelling, the shrill laughter from the girls. He didn't hear Matthew. It made him sick with worry.

By the time he got to the room that was more like a closet, Alfred had Robert Williams in a headlock and the girls were shrieking. Arthur rushed to the collapsed form of Matthew. He was on his side and unconscious. Alfred hauled Robert down the stairs, his bellows of protest echoing in the large house.

Arthur rolled Matthew to his back. His face was already starting to purple and blood was coating his lips. The girls kept screaming. Finally, Arthur turned and shouted: "Shut it!" The two sisters froze in either horror or shock and clung to each other, only whimpers spilling from their ugly faces.

With a glare, Arthur turned his attention back to Matthew. He had very little training in medical care, but he could find a pulse. He pressed his fingers to Matthew's neck, cringing only slightly at the blood that drizzled down Matthew's face. His pulse was slow and calm, like he was sleeping.

Confused, Arthur slid his arms under Matthew's shoulders and locked his hands together across Matthew's narrow and bony chest. Matthew's heart rate should either be pounding with adrenaline or dangerously slow. In no way should he be this calm. Arthur stood and managed to haul Matthew up with him.

He was halfway to the door when Alfred returned. "I put him in the carriage and had the other guard watch him," Alfred said. He scooped Matthew easily from Arthur's grip. "Will you escort the girls down?"

Arthur nodded, panting. Dragging Matthew even that short distance had worn him out. "What happened to that man?"

"He's outside, but he's keeping his distance." Alfred shrugged and left the room, minding Matthew's head by the door.

"You can't do this!" The skinnier girl screeched. "He is our _servant_ what we do is not a concern to anyone!"

Arthur felt a flare of hatred in his chest for her. "How could you treat another human like that?"

"He was hardly human!" the other girl roared. "Did you see his hair and eyes? He has to be some demon!"

"I suggest you both keep quiet before this gets worse for you," Arthur said coldly. He took each girl by the wrist and tugged them to the stairs.

"You can't do this!" the skinny one shrilled again. She began to cry. "Were ladies!"

Arthur had to bite his tongue before he said something nasty. He just continued to pull against the weakly struggling girls and got them outside.

Alfred was waiting by the carriage. He was half inside, probably making sure Matthew wouldn't fall off the small seat. When he saw Arthur approach, he gestured for the coachman to watch Matthew. Alfred then jogged over to Arthur and took the pudgier girl by the arm.

Williams was in the coachman's seat, his hands tied and his eyes dark and murderous. Alfred and Arthur lead his daughters up the steps to sit beside him.

"This is ridiculous," Williams growled as Alfred and Arthur approached. "That boy deserved what he got."

Arthur opened his mouth to say something but Alfred stepped between them. "Sir, I suggest you keep quiet before you dig an even bigger hole for yourself."

Williams merely threw his head and gave Alfred a haughty look. Arthur felt his blood begin to boil.

Alfred rubbed his hands across Arthur's shoulders and lead him back to the main part of the carriage.

"Wait," Arthur said. He had caught a glimpse of the strange man who had stopped them. His face was almost as white and his hair and he looked rather strained. "I want to talk to him."

Alfred nodded and let Arthur approach the man. "Thank you. I knew he was in trouble I just couldn't prove it."

The man smiled. It looked almost forced. "It was no problem. I'm just glad he's safe."

"I'm sorry if this is rash, but, who are you?" Arthur asked. "You weren't here the last time I was."

The man nodded slowly. "I was here. I'm a friend of Matthew's. His stepfather doesn't know I exist."

"I see. Will you come to the castle with us? It would help greatly to prosecute Williams," Arthur said

"I can't."

"Sorry?"

"I would love to come, but I can't," the man said. He looked over his shoulder, his face drawn.

"How come?" Arthur asked.

The man shook his head. "Will you tell Matthew Gilbert said he was sorry? And that I uh, that I love him?"

"Arthur! We have to go!" Alfred called.

Arthur looked over his shoulder. "I'll be right there!" He turned back to answer the man, Gilbert, but there were only bubbles floating lazily to the ground.


	6. Chapter 6

Cendres

Chapter Six

Matthew woke up after he was jostled around a little too much. He tried to lift his head, but found a painful throbbing throughout his skull.

"Shh, shh. Lay back down, you're all right," someone crooned.

Matthew cracked an eye open and saw Kirkland seated across from him. A man sat beside him. Tall, even while sitting, blond and easy on the eyes.

"Where am I?" Matthew croaked.

"In our carriage. We're taking you back to the palace," Kirkland smiled kindly.

"The palace?"

"We have reason to believe you are the person Prince Francis is looking for," Kirkland said softly.

Matthew felt the blood rush to his head. He wasn't sure if it was from excitement or nausea. "I am. I have the rose-" he dropped off his sentence. The rose was probably back in the house with that awful man. He did not want to go back.

"Don't worry about it. Francis will know if it's you." Kirkland patted Matthew's arm.

Matthew was silent, unsure of what to say. Finally he had a question. "How did I get out?"

"A man named Gilbert stopped us from leaving," Kirkland said. "He left before we left with you, but he did tell me to let you know he was sorry. And that he loved you."

Matthew felt tears prick his eyes. He lowered his head back to the seat.

"If you don't mind me asking," Kirkland's voice was gentle, like he was talking to a frightened animal. "Who was this man?"

"My fairy godmother," Matthew mumbled through numb lips.

Kirkland and his guard were silent the rest of the way to the palace.

Alfred left the carriage first. He closed the door firmly behind him. Arthur heard shouts of protest and high-pitched shrieking.

"What's that?" Matthew asked.

"Robert Williams and his daughters. We took them into custody." Arthur explained.

"I bet they're mad."

"From the shouting, I would assume so," Arthur said jokingly.

A small smile touched Matthew's bloodied mouth. They were quiet until the yelling dissipated.

"Sir Kirkland?" Matthew said timidly.

"Please, call me Arthur. My his guard is Alfred."

"Very well, Arthur," Matthew swallowed. "What if I'm not who the Prince thinks I am?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not some mysterious, beautiful stranger. I'm just a boy who was beaten and happened to have someone rescue me," Matthew said softly.

Arthur smiled and stood. "I think you'll find our Prince is not that shallow. Believe it or not. Are you able to stand?"

Matthew pushed himself up with a slight wince. His ribs and arm hurt something awful. Arthur slid his arm around Matthew's waist and all but lifted him to his feet.

"We'll get you to a doctor, then Francis will want to see you," Arthur said. He helped Matthew from the carriage. Williams and the girls were nowhere in sight.

Matthew nodded. He clung to Arthur as they walked. They were in a large courtyard. There were stables to the left and the gates leading out to the city on the right. Walking towards large double doors with picture-frame windows on either side, Matthew felt like he was in a dream. They were about halfway to the doors when Alfred came back with two other men clad in white. They held a stretcher between them.

"Took you long enough," Arthur passed Matthew to Alfred. He lifted him easily and set him on the stretcher.

"I'm sorry, I had to find a stretcher," Alfred said.

Arthur patted Alfred's chest. "Thank you. Will you go find Francis? I don't want to leave him alone."

"Alright," Alfred smiled gently, kissed Arthur's cheek and went back into the castle.

"Where is he going?" Matthew asked.

Arthur came to Matthew's side. He motioned for the medics to move. He took Matthew's hand as they walked. "He went to get Francis. We're going to the doctor now."

"Where is my stepfather?"

"Probably in the dungeon. Along with the girls. You don't have to worry about them anymore," Arthur smiled.

Matthew nodded weakly. "I don't want to be alone."

"I'll be right here," Arthur said. Shadow covered them as they entered the castle. Arthur had to jog to keep by Matthew's side.

"Thank you," Matthew said. He was tired. Everything throbbed, he was anxious to see Francis and worried about what happened to Gilbert. What was with that message he left for him? It sounded pretty cryptic.

They reached the hospital wing. The doctor was waiting for them with a clean bed and a pile of bandages. The assistants held the stretcher beside the bed. Arthur and the doctor lifted Matthew and moved him to the bed.

Matthew winced as he was moved. He watched as the doctor and his helpers moved above him. He could see Arthur out of the corner of his eye, sitting near his head.

His shirt was taken off and fingers were prodding his bruised sides. Matthew whimpered and tried to move away. Gentle hands pressed against his shoulders.

"You have to hold still, Matthew," Arthur said.

"Looks like the ribs aren't broken, luckily. Though his stomach does seem to have suffered some internal injury," the doctor said.

Matthew felt his eyes begin to water. Even if his ribs weren't broken, how would they fix his organs?

The door slammed open and Francis and Alfred came rushing in.

"Is it really him?" Francis asked as he approached Matthew's bed. Matthew turned his face away.

"Calm down, Francis," Arthur said. He stood and blocked Francis from coming any closer to Matthew.

"Alfred said he was hurt. How bad is it?" Francis tried to sidestep Arthur, but he caught his arm and pulled him a few feet away. Alfred went to Matthew's side.

"It's bad. He's scared and in pain. You have to calm down," Arthur whispered.

Francis glared. How could Arthur tell him to calm down? This poor boy was terribly injured by the person he should be able to trust most.

Arthur narrowed his eyes as well. "He needs comfort right now, not vengeance. He's already worried that you will reject him, let's not let him think he's going to die."

"Very well, I can do that."

"Good. Now go take Alfred's spot. We'll start the trial."

Francis nodded. Arthur and Alfred left and he went to Matthew's bed. Alfred looked at him, then bent down to Matthew's ear. Alfred stood a moment later and Francis took his spot.

"Hello, Matthew," Francis murmured. Matthew had his eyes tightly closed, his jaw clenched. The doctor and his assistants moved quickly and quietly over his torso.

Matthew pried his eyes open. They found Francis and some of his fear ebbed away. "Hi."

"How are you feeling?" Francis placed a gentle hand on Matthew's head. His hair was damp with sweat. He had to be exhausted.

"Hurts. What are they doing?" Matthew asked. He was too afraid to look down at himself. What if he was cut open and his insides were hanging out? Or what if his body wasn't there at all?

Francis glanced down at the doctors. The lead was pushing against Matthew's side while another pressed the top of his rib cage. A third was prodding her fingers around Matthew's stomach.

"They're poking at you. But don't worry, they'll make you all better," Francis said. He turned back to Matthew and smiled.

"Oh," Matthew breathed. He closed his eyes again. Francis thought he had passed out until he spoke again. "I have your rose. It's just a petal, but I have it."

"What?" Francis furrowed his brow. Was Matthew hallucinating? That wasn't a good sign.

"From the maze. I have your rose." Matthew opened his eyes.

Francis pressed his lips together before he made the connection. He remembered Matthew being enveloped by a bubble and a single petal floating into his hand. In all his rushing around and confusion, he had completely forgotten about the whole search for the flower. "You kept it?"

"I did. But I lost it when he came to my room," Matthew said. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't be sorry. _I'm_ sorry that you had to go through that," said Francis. He smoothed Matthew's hair back. "I won't let him hurt you ever again."

A smile touched Matthew's lips, then he closed his eyes again. "I'm tired."

Francis turned to the doctor. "He's tired. Are you almost done?"

The head doctor gave a brief nod. "We just need to wrap his torso and set his arm. See how it's swollen? It's broken about halfway down his elbow."

Francis leaned over Matthew's torso to look at his left arm. It was indeed swollen and about twice the size of his right. He sat back down and met the doctor's gaze. "Is it going to hurt him?

After a glance at Matthew, the doctor nodded. Francis let out a deep sigh. He cupped Matthew's cheek. "Are you awake?"

Matthew cracked his eyes open. "Kind of."

"Alright, the doctor has to fix your arm. It might hurt a little. Are you ready?"

"Can I squeeze your hand?" Matthew asked. He seemed so small and fragile just then. Like a child.

Francis swallowed. His throat felt dry. "Squeeze as hard as you need."

Matthew nodded and the doctor took his arm. "On the count of three, I'm going to pull your arm. After a few seconds it will continue to ache, but if it's worse than it is now, we have to do it again. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Matthew said. He focused on his arm, making sure he knew exactly how much it hurt right now so the whole thing could be over with sooner.

"Alright," the doctor took hold of Matthew's wrist while another grabbed just below his elbow. "On three. One...two…" He pulled Matthew's arm.

Matthew cried out in pain and shock. He had Francis's hand in a death grip. Francis tried not to wince or pull his hand away, Matthew hurt a lot more than he did. "What happened to three?" Matthew all but yelled, no longer sleepy.

"I find if you're not expecting it, the pain is a lot less. How does it feel?" the doctor said casually. He touched Matthew's arm lightly.

Matthew paused to evaluate his arm, though he was still angry. "It's better."

"Good, as soon as it's wrapped you're free to go," the doctor said. He dragged a chair over and began to make a splint for Matthew. The assistants had Matthew sit up and they wrapped his torso tightly.

"Ow," Matthew hissed as they pulled at his skin. "What are you doing?"

"There's some lacerations on your body. We'll use one large bandage rather than a hundred small ones, yes?"

Matthew merely shrugged. Sleep was fogging his brain again.

"So, he's going to be all right?" Francis asked hesitantly.

The doctor nodded. "Bed rest, lots of soup and water. Take him outside for about an hour once a day and don't let him bathe on his own. Bring him back down in about a week and we'll see how he's getting along."

"I will. And doctor?" Francis said as the man stood. "Will you make a detailed report about Matthew's injuries? Leave nothing out."

"Yes, Your Highness," the doctor inclined his head and moved away.

Francis helped Matthew stand up. His exposed ahoulders were black and blue and there was still blood on his face. "Let's get you upstairs and cleaned up. How does that sound?"

Matthew nodded and let Francis wrap an arm around his waist. Then Alfred was on his other side.

"Looks like you could use some help," the guard said with a gentle smile.

"Alfred? When did you get here?" Francis asked.

"Just before he set Matthew's arm. I didn't want to distract him."

"I see. Where's Arthur?" Together, they carried the half-limp Matthew from the medical wing.

"He's making up a court and trial. He got Williams someone to talk for him, but even that man seems angry with the fat bastard," Alfred said. "Artie says he'll be up before dinner."

"Tell him to bring Matthew-"

"Chicken broth, tea and some water." Alfred smiled. They mounted the many stairs leading to Francis's room. "He's on it."

Matthew's lead lolled on his shoulders. He understood the conversation, but they talked so fast he wasn't sure if he would remember it. His body was warm from the two beside him, but it still ached and throbbed.

After what seemed like forever, Alfred took all of Matthew's weight so Francis could open his bedroom door. Matthew watched through slitted eyes, unsure of how long they had been walking.

Francis rushed in the room and disappeared behind another door. Alfred brought Matthew in and closed the door behind them.

Francis came out again, a bowl of water and a rag in his arms. "Just lay him on the bed. Will you get in my closet and grab a pajama shirt?"

"Of course," Alfred said. He brought Matthew over to the bed and eased him in. "Do you care which one?"

"No, just make sure it's soft," Francis replied. He swung Matthew's legs on the bed and set his bowl of water on the night stand. "Matthew? Are you awake?"

Matthew gave a small groan and lifted a few fingers. He was tired and wanted to sleep.

"Arthur's going to bring you some soup in a minute. Would you like some?" Francis wetted the cloth, wrung it out and started wiping the blood from Matthew's face.

Matthew winced and tried to pull away. How face hurt and Francis wasn't helping. "Stop," he managed to mumble out.

"Just a little bit more," Francis whispered. He scrubbed at a larger spot of blood, sending Matthew into tears.

"Shh, shh," Francis crooned. He felt helpless. Everything he did just hurt Matthew more. He had never felt so useless.

Arthur finally arrived. He carried a silver tray with ceramic dishes. The king was behind him.

Francis left Matthew's side and went to speak with his father. Matthew tried to pay attention, but sleep overtook him.


	7. AN

Hey guys, FF has been messing with my chapters so no more sex scenes will be published. However, if you would like to read those chapters in full, feel free to message me and I'll email it to you. I'll put at the beginning of a chapter if it is not complete so you don't have to read it twice. Just include the story and what chapter you'll need. Thanks!


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